Glass Tomb
by Trunchbull
Summary: An inside look on Satsuki and Junketsu's relationship in Junketsu's perspective. Prompt Fill for the KlK kink meme.


**Summary: **An inside look on Satsuki and Junketsu's relationship in Junketsu's perspective. Give me hell for trying out a first person POV on a character that has very little development in the show.

Prompt fill for someone on Kink la Kink. Went for a more lonely Junketsu than an aggressive freak of alien product Junketsu.

It is time for battle again.

My human tenses and relaxes periodically where she sits, remaining calm even in face of impending conquest. She raises her arm to sip her tea one last time before moving to stand.

I am silent; what words can be said to a human who blocks out your words by blocking you from their mind? It is quiet without a voice to talk to, but I was not created for socialising with my host. My purpose is not to become friends with them. I sometimes miss the sound of Mother's voice and my brethren as well. But they are gone, and it will be a long time before I return to my origins.

My human's heartbeat remains steady, a monotonous metronome to count away the minutes. Her chest warms slightly, and she's most likely thinking of how the events will play out in today's battle. She has a certain attraction to the rush one gets from fighting; I caught it the first time I tasted her blood, when she became my human. I could sense it in her thoughts right before she put up mental blockades that kept me from seeing what she saw.

The corridors stretch for miles, but we walked down the shortest of them, the one that leads to the balcony platform of her tower. I appreciate the balcony more than inside, as no air currents flow here.

The doors in front of her opened without her touching them as usual. Rays of light danced on her stoic face and warmed my skin. Despite my urge, I did not squeeze her in light of my good mood. She did not appreciate being touched any more than necessary, and she made that very clear early on.

Her sword was presented to her from one of her servants, who bowed respectfully before her. They did not bow for me, for to them, I was merely clothing with a warning label marked as dangerous. She took it, and when she touched it, it caused her heart rate to increase. Her blood boiled with the desire to triumph, one that I shared equally. Despite her steely façade, she was invigorated to battle.

She spoke, and the vibrations ran through me. The words were clipped, purely militaristic in nature, as she commanded her Elite Four to follow through with her plans. Her plans were strong and solid, and rarely have I seen a time where they have failed.

Those times made her withdrawn. My human does not like failure, and neither do I. When she fails, she closes herself off. It makes me feel cold despite the heat of her body, and even though she closes me off, failure is the moment where her barriers drop slightly and allow me an inside look to her mind. I don't like hearing what she thinks and feeling what she feels in those, but it's a window of opportunity to address and acknowledge her stress. I remain silent throughout it, though. Talking to her would only bring up the barriers once more, and would become a blank slate once again.

Her forces saluted her, and set off to bring to fruition their commands. My human stood at the edge of the balcony. The time passed, and we were given a moment of solace outside of the barricade of her home. When she was relaxed, sometimes her thoughts slipped through the barricades. None were heard today.

The wind picked up right on time to caress both of us before our opponent arrived on field. The wind sent my human's hair flowing to the right and brushing against the back of my skin. It felt nice, tingles prickling where the black strands touched. I did not shudder; it would throw off my human's speech, which was being delivered to her opponent. She does not like being distracted.

The sword in her hand tapped at the ground, hitting a button that released the stairs that spiraled down to meet her enemy. She decended down, and I felt her anticipation. Her calm demeanor on the outside was controlled perfectly, her step never faulty. She did not stumble, not even when a member of the lowest class flew past her from the enemy's launch. An icy fortress stepped onto the ground, raised her sword unceremoniously, and confronted the opponent.

Conversation was brief. My human does not waste time with words where they are not needed, and her fingers tapped against the raised switches bound to her left arm. I experienced a spike of her own adrenaline as her skin was punctured and I began to drink her blood.

I couldn't manage how much I drank. I kept drinking and drinking to keep both my human and I flowing with impeccable reaction times, speed, and power. It was hard to restrain myself when her blood tasted so good. In the back of my mind I can feel a rejection of a full synchronisation, and I can't help but snarl at it every time she transforms. You can't force a bond, but she forces it anyway without my complete consent. More of the liquid fills my body, and my form snaps onto hers. It's a hot explosion that sharpens my awareness to both the enemy and my human. It's the only time I can truly touch her when I tighten and bind myself to her.

Her blood whittles away as we fight. I vent steam sometime when she's acting out more than I can follow given our current state in terms of a relationship, if it can be called that. Because she rejects me, I am obligated to follow suit, and draw more blood to maintain in harmony with her. If only she opened her mind, it would be easier to unleash my full potential.

The blood of her enemy sometimes falls onto me, and I suck it up anytime it does. It's extra fuel that I accept without hesitation, and allows me to remove some of the strain from my human. It's intriguing how she manages to hold up and fight so viciously despite the weight I place on her. The blood is salty, impure, but when it mixes in with the blood I suck from my human, it becomes more tolerable.

The battle has been going on for an extensive amount of time. Her blood count was getting low, but she blocked me off, so I had no way of telling her this. I am not supposed to care about my human, as my human's creator told me once when I was nailed to the wall at night. Her creator displays more affection toward me than my human herself, but it doesn't change my view of her. My human has better blood than her creator.

I can feel the effects of my systems taking a toll on my human. Her movements were less graceful, and she began to make mistakes that normally wouldn't occur if she had enough blood to keep her properly focused. There was no room for guilt on the battlefield; lives were always at stake. Unnecessary emotions like guilt would only cause more mistakes.

But my nervousness died down as her enemy fell. Retreated. I felt a sense of pride being able to conquer her foe _with_ her. To conquer those beneath us. The adulation that she received for her efforts was always welcome.

Blood coated her body in areas I would not be able to reach. She would have to remove me in order to wash it off completely.

I didn't want to be taken off of her, though. The rush of adrenaline still remained in the blood I'd taken from her, and fuelled me with aggressiveness when it came time to be removed. I strained to stay in place, but Satsuki's strength still surpassed mine when we weren't transformed. She threw me without a second thought at her servants, and I fought against them, but with so many of them crowding around me, it overwhelmed me. The coldness became more apparent once I was nailed to the wall. Without a body to warm me, it brought upon the loneliness that only a silent steel sovereign could quell. One that wasn't here.

I felt constricted to a life style I did not find healthy, nor did I have a desire to embrace it. But I do not want to go back to sleep. Even though my human is a quiet and strict individual, it was still a better alternative to the eternal slumber I could face hanging within that glass box.


End file.
